


The Death of Percival Graves (Imagine)

by Azar443



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 23:09:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10672722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azar443/pseuds/Azar443
Summary: Imagine being the original Percival Graves’ significant other and finding out he’s been killed by Grindelwald after the events of Fantastic Beasts.





	The Death of Percival Graves (Imagine)

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on an idea that Percival and his team were the people in hats who were killed by Grindelwald at the beginning of the film. The format I used for writing this is strange, but I've been trawling through Tumblr and really liked the freedom this writing style gave me. So here's to trying new things!

\- waiting with bated breath & praying to any and all wizarding gods that _somehow_ , Percival is alive.

\- making sure that his office at home is always cleaned and that his pile of letters are stacked neatly in the middle of his desk, the way he liked, _likes_. Because if there’s one thing Percival can’t stand, it’s his office being a mess.

\- enduring the pitying (and sometimes suspicious) glances everyone sends your way as you make your way to your office in MACUSA. When you shut your door, you can immediately hear a burst of chittering of “I feel so bad for her” and “I wonder if she’s in it with Grindelwald too”.

\- playing back every single memory of the time when your Percival (because he will always be yours) was impersonated by Grindelwald and wondering _why_ , _how_ you didn’t notice when he’d turn away from your touch and sneer when your Percival was all soft smiles and soft touches and soft everythings with you.

\- opening your office door to be met with Madame Picquery and wishing you had slammed the door in her face because she’s holding the one thing that will bring you more nightmares than Grindelwald or anything else could.

\- accepting the hat he wore on official missions as an Auror with a blank face and nodding mechanically at Madame Picquery’s quiet condolences because why is she saying she’s sorry and that Percival isn’t coming back? He’s just late, you know. He’ll come home to you, eventually. He always does.

\- sitting in front of the fireplace, the place where he loved to hold you, and fiddling with his hat, crinkling your eyes when you touch the discrete embroidery hidden inside the brim of his hat. Your Percival was a stoic man, and it was a testament to his love for you that he allowed you to crookedly embroider a small cat within his hat, as a reminder of both your love for cats, and to bring with him a piece of you when you’re not with him.

\- crying on the day of his funeral because you miss him and you never got the chance to say goodbye and remind him of how much you love him and you don’t know whether he suffered before he died and if his last thoughts were about you waiting for him to come home. The worst thing is that there won’t even be a burial or cremation because they couldn’t find his body or those of his team and you’re robbed of seeing him for the last time, even if his eyes are closed forever and he’ll be lifeless and _dead_.

\- receiving gentle hugs and softly spoken condolences after the service alongside his sister, who is the only remaining member of the illustrous Graves family. She asks you to come stay with her so you won’t be alone, but you won’t intrude on her life because all you’ll be reminded of is that Percival is gone and she has her beautiful family with her and it’s unfair and you’re such an awful person. You hug her and say you’ll be fine, complete with a bright smile that feels wrong because you shouldn’t be smiling or laughing without him in your life anymore.

\- going to sleep in an empty, oversized bed every night and waking up alone in that same empty bed. When Percival was alive, you always said, jokingly, that he took up too much space and hogged the blankets but now you wish he was there to constantly move onto your side of the bed because no matter how cold his feet were in the night, or how you wrestled for the blankets or how you both had morning breaths, it was so, so much more better than this vacuum.

\- staring in the mirror every morning and missing the way you’d watch him shave and clean himself everyday. You use his toothbrush now, and wrap yourself in his blankets and scent and sometimes, you can fool yourself to believe it’s his warm, strong arms wrapped around you and you can feel the ghost of his kiss on your head, your cheek, your neck, your lips, everywhere.

\- feeling his presence everywhere you go, and it’s a comfort because you like to think he’s hovering about you, worrying about whether you’re eating and sleeping enough and whether you’re caring for yourself properly, and that’s your only motivation for not letting yourself to to waste despite wanting to stay in bed forever and not care. Because he’d want to see you live.

\- not knowing how life will be with him gone, and how you’ll ever be happy again but it’s ok. Percival’s always told you that when shit hits the fan, always take one day at a time. So that’s what you do, and even though he’s not around anymore to love you, he’ll never be gone. And you’ll see him again, one day.


End file.
